Stopping with that line of fantasy story

Gonna stop with the whole "dragon business" feels really fucking stupid.

As far as the attack goes it really started around the fourth of July and is still going on.  It is strong and does not seem to be letting up.  I am sure I own half of it.  I know I own at least half of it.

Yes, I thought because I was creatively writing about it that it would lighten up.

ordered some "stuff" on line.

Ordered stuff on line.  The "stuff" I am referring to is of an adult nature.  It came in Friday as I was writing the last post.  It is the only thing I have received from UPS where I tracked it so closely that I got home just after the package was dropped off.  Immediately I started opening all the stuff up (two packages) and as I was doing that Mary Anne walked in and caught me in a rather compromised position.  I wasn't "in the act" of anything but I was getting kind of close.  I can't fucking believe I am writing this down.

She saw me half naked but I am not sure she had a grasp as to what was actually going on.  I told her that I was just doing laundry and trying to get ALL my cloths in.   I quickly put shorts on and cleared all my stuff off the table which she did not appear to inspect to closely.  I then ran it all into the bathroom.

One of the things I left out on the kitchen counter was a thing for.  uh. . . for.  uh. . cleaning personal parts of ones body.  You got it or do I need to spell it out for you?  If I have to spell it out for you I am afraid you are out of luck.

I don't know what is going on with me.  I know that other people go through this exact same thing.

Hubris

A man's been murdered

and another man has killed himself... 

...yet this boy remains silent.

What wanton hubris is this? 

Look at the previous 4 or 5 posts from earlier this week.  I feel like a complete fool.  This thing has made a fool out of me.  I was likening my addiction to the dragon fantasy.  I thought that by writing about it creatively I could really fight this thing and win!!!!

I thought, "I am writing about it and so .   .    .  yeah.   .   . I am writing about it.  Yeah man!!!! and so. . . . uh. . . . yeah."  Like some kinda teenage kid who has the world by the balls only to look back years later in complete bewilderment.

Thinking that we're getting older and wiser

When we're just getting old

In fact I confided in my therapist and was just about ready to tell her some of the worst.  And that very night after the appt (last Tues) I went completely off the rails.  I haven't met up with anybody yet but I have been soooooo fucking close.

Discovery

She was there and she knew she shouldn't be.  She was in the forest.  The forest ruled by her Dad - the God of steam and lightning.  The sun had set and any natural light had given way to the black velvet of night.  She could no longer contain her curiosity.  She knew what was in that forest.  She had heard the stories of the other children and she wanted to see for herself.  She had to find it.  She was eight years old and had no understanding of fear.  Fear to her was as unknowable as the color blue to a blind man.

That night as she passed the entrance into the forbidden lands she felt a slight cold and clammy mist over her face like the strand of a spiders silk.  And she thought she heard the hiss of a snake or some kind of reptile.  To somebody that understood, this would raise the hair on the back of their neck.  To somebody that understood, this would cause a shiver followed by cold then numb feet.  To somebody that understood this forest.  That somebody would turn around without hesitation, leave the forest, and not look back.  These feelings and thoughts were completely absent in the young girls being.  She continued deeper into the woods.  The darkness sucking her into the womb of night.

The once solid hard ground gave way to a soft and spongy moss covered earth.  Every once in a while there was the squish of water underneath followed by the suction when she pulled her foot upward.  At other times the spongy earth would feel hollow underneath and she could hear the dead air of decaying life being expelled from the ground followed by the smell of decaying vegetation and flesh. She could barely make out the silhouettes of the trees that were becoming thicker and now had vines hanging from them. There was no sound except for that of a slight continuous hiss.  There was no sound of running water like that of a stream or brook.  There were no insect sounds like crickets or the high pitch buzzing of millions of mosquito wings.  Every once in a while against the back drop of silence she could hear and feel the pitter patter or thumpity thump of a small animal scurrying over the moss covered forest floor.

Invisible in the darkness the howls and viscous barking erupted and came at her from every direction.  Stopping just short of her she feel the panting of warm damp air as the barking terror settled into restrained growling.  She could barely make out the muzzles of teeth loaded with flesh and blood that stood within inches of her body.  The smell of decaying and rotting flesh filled the black air.

She looked without understanding what she was seeing and continued on.  Immediately as she moved her first foot the frenzy of barking and the snapping razor teeth resumed as the animals descended into her flesh to tear her apart. But as each muzzle and fur covered face went in it evaporated into nothing.  The rest of the animals followed.  Wave upon wave the were sucked into her body until nothing was left.

The attack is done.  Once again I tried to do battle and lost.  Since then another has come and went and of course, I lost again as I always do.

I am sure soon she will get bored with me and move on.  I think she is just walking along with me until she finds something better.  To while away the days with me, I guess, she must find it somehow soothing.  I mean I must be of some value, Huh?  I am sure it will be just like Myra, Jenna, Victoria, and Valerie.  I can see they all made the best choices. . . . [a couple of seconds pass]. . . . . for me.

My number one goal in my life is fighting the Dragons of Hesse,  It is appearing that this will be my fight until I die either of old age, in an accident, in the jaws and fire breath of a dragon.  It is a world in which very few are privy. It is a world in which very few can see.  Nevertheless it is a world that is very real.   The dragons do live.  The dragons are real.  They can fly and breath fire and kill en masse.  They can surgically isolate their victim. and attach with methodical and measured precision.  They can attack for years with methodical measured deliberation until they need not use teeth, jaws, fire or talons.  They leave it for the victim to finish the job.

I first met the dragons when I was four years old.  It was in the far corner of the forbidden forest.  "Well, what were you expecting?  The entrance of the allowable forest or permissible forest?"  My parents were off doing other stuff and my sister whispered me away.

"Come here, I need to show you something!" She said,  "Quick - before mom and dad come back and want to know where we are!" 

With all the innocence that a four year old can have I followed.  I think I remembered sensing a hint of danger as she tried to coax me away.  The forest was dark and only my parents went there.  It was always cool and seemed to have a musty smell to it.  Entrance into the forest was by invitation only.  Rarely was I invited and it never really mattered until that day.  That forest was not of this world and both my sister and I knew it.

My sister was four years older than me and she had already ventured in and seen it.  But she had not really see it.  She actually had no idea what she was looking at.  Well she did but it didn't effect her but she knew it would effect me and she wanted to see how.


It was actually my sister who introduced them to me.  We met in my mom and dad's room.  My sister saw them too but she had no idea what she was looking at.  As soon as I saw them I experience a change in me.  My sister saw the change and she kind of laughed.  For me there was no laughing.  And as for the dragons, they weren't laughing either.

We went to the far corner of my mom and dad's bedroom.  In that far corner was filing cabinet. It was one of two where upon door lay flat to make a desk. There was the filing cabinet in the far corner and another at the other end of the door.  She opened the top drawer of the two drawer filing cabinet.  She pulled it out until it could be pulled no further.  She put her hand all the way to the back and then pulled it back out.  With it came a tremendous amount of smoke that had no smell.  It was almost like steam but it had real substance.  The particles of the steam did not dissipate or vanish.  In stead, the particles began to connect to one another making solid where once there was only air.  It took just a matter of seconds until all the particles connected and became two distinct masses suspended in space in my mom and dad's room.

They looked very much like "Puff" the magic dragon or rather an artist's conception of Puff. That is all I knew from the folk song by Peter Paul and Mary that my dad was listening to at the time.  I was awestruck.  The room became very big and my sister and I became very small.  My sister couldn't see it - any of it.  She didn't see the huge eyes.  She didn't see the massive mouths, the teeth, and the wings.  The wings.  The dragons seemed to be floating but they were not.  Their wings were flapping in full stroke



The wings seemed to be flapping in slow motion They were in the air because they were flapping their mighty scale covered wings.

I wasn't scarred at all.  Instead I was in awe.  I stood their transfixed on the two behemoths that floated in front of me.  And then simultaneously in one coordinated bellows they pulled in what must have been half the air in the room and expelled it back out with blue then yellow then orange flames that filled the room.  I did not move but just stood.  That is how I met Penlot and Rombuchuana.

Then in one of the most improbable moves I have ever seen, my sister simply grabbed at them with one hand no less and they turned to back into the steam that was really smoke.  The smoke collapsed back in on itself.  Then in one motion put it all back into the filing cabinet.  And then she closed the drawer.  The room lay just as it did moments before as if nothing ever happened.  Except for me standing looking ridiculous - like my pants were down around my ankles.

All my sister could see was my reaction.  I knew she had no idea what I saw.  She knew I saw something that was beyond her and she stood their mortified.  We both left the room.  Quiet and somber.  Penlot and Rombuchuana would be back.  The war lie waiting.














Penlot and Rombuchana were their names.

Some thoughts on "How the Mind Works" by Steven Pinker

1.)  A lot of species plateau. for 100's of  millions of years.

2.) The end result of evolution is not necessarily Intelligence.

Under Attack

Without provocation (or maybe with?) I am under complete attack.  It is fucking fierce.  It just seemed to come on. I had just completed writing about the last system for this manual I am working on and was beginning to start make screen shots isolating these various systems to complement the descriptions.  And then out of the clear blue sky I could hear the whooshing in the distance and then there they were.

It is said that the best way to fight them is to not engage, but I did.  Once the engagement starts I always end up getting burned.  Just as I feel as though I am winning, I lose horribly.  I lay there naked and torn to pieces.  A lot of times I get up and engage again and the might dragons are all too willing to come back.  This can happen up to nine to ten times until I am completely spent, empty with only a hollow shell.

The attack today is huge.  I feel as though I am ready to engage completely without a thread of armor.  My best bet now is to engage but not fully.

I think I avoided complete engagement and thus complete annihilation.  I did get reinforcements.  Kelli came into help.  We are talking right now.  Strategizing.  She is but doesn't know it.  I think they come for her too but she is always able to avoid the attack by doing what she is doing now and that talking with me or talking with other people or being with other people.  Me on the other hand I can't seem to get an army together.  I am kind of stranded.

The killer thing is they can show up right now as I am talking with her.  I have engaged even while talking with her.  I actually find myself inviting them in.  I miss them and when they are gone for a while I want them to come back.

This is a problem.

The beauty of it all

For Anton, it was always all so beautiful.  They were beyond him.  They were there for him to worship.  He felt it was ordained on high that he worship them.  The great dragons.  The fire, the wings. the tails, the power.  The reason for his existence was the great fire breathing dragons of Zeundeachin.  When Anton looked at the dragons he saw nothing but beauty and grace.  This would change.

Listen!

The waves.  the water.  the rocks, The cold.  The taste of salt.  His eyelids parted. The sea spray blurred his vision. He looked up.   “I am still alive.  Really?” He thought.  “Fuck!”  Alone.  No remnants of his ship.  The crew gone.  The unkindest cut.  The pain rushed in,  His scream came without thought or provocation.  Just pain. That is all.  The pain gave way to the scream.  Consciousness was absent.  And the scream came.  And no one cared to hear!

Dieter, why?

The Dragons

They are coming in again.

“Ernie, I need another drink.  He said as he looked at the cat Laying on his satchel of tricks.  It appeared there weren’t any tricks in the satchel at this time that would ward off Dieter.  Pronounce Dee Tah.  Not Dee ter.  People pronouncing this Dee ter will be kicked to death by an Antifa squad!  Ernie gave him the bottle again.  He took a swig and listened as the woosh of Dieter’s wings thrashed through the air.  The hut shook. The air inside pulsed followed by a flash of yellow orange heat.

He couldn’t help it.  He loved Dieter and Dieter knew it. Dieter loved him.  However, both of them would have no qualms about killing each other if necessary but Dieter needed Anton so there was no fucking way Dieter would vaporize his hut.  Another woosh and a blast of air sending the fishermen on the shore into the sea.

Anton on the other hand loved Dieter and Dieter was like family even more so than his father who called him a dumb shit and a worthless bastard.  Dieter was like Anton’s son.

Aber ich liebe Dieter.  He cried with out stretched arms as Dieter fell wingless into the abyss

[It looks like our hero’s name is Anton.  Wendy’s name will be Mischa.  So it would appear that our names will be Russian.   By the way Wendy, you are the super super hero in this story]

Crazy

The next couple of posts are just fodder, some ramblings and some metaphorical fanatasy for some type of book that I might write.  Don’t laugh one day it will come out and I’ll make it into a monster, that is, if we all pull together as a team.  It starts out with me helpless in a cage.

Remember slot cars?  Remember how if they got going too fast they would fly off the track when they went around a curve.  Well, I am out on the wasteland known as the carpet upside down with my wheels spinning.  I need something to put me back on the track. Tonight was kind of a doozy.  I am not going to go into the details of it but it is bad and I spent $12 and something on this thing.  And this thing is not good.

I sit here in this cage
except I don’t sit.
I climb around the bars frantically
And then I settle on that thing
That thing I must not do.
But I do it.
But I need more than just that thing
I look toward the extreme
And then I head that direction
Putting one foot in front of the other
The motion is deliberate and smooth
I can’t turn my head away
My eyes don’t stare without blinking
They dry out and I don’t even notice
But now I am calm

Yeah, this is supposed to be a poem.  It is not very imaginative.  But ya know I am an engineer.  I am not sure if the dragons have flown away yet.  I don’t hear them.  I still like the dragon analogy.  Here we go!

The dragons came in tonight and they were furious.  They saw he was week and struck like lightning.  Awe Fuck! I can still hear them.  I need something for my constitution Ernie.  Ernie handed him the bottle and he slugged it down and then without missing a beat he went outside again.  He couldn’t help it.  He had to go outside and do battle.  The jitters went away or at least subsided. He watched them fly by.  “They’ll be back. I just hope not tonight!  Oh Mische, I am sorry! and then the words came out of his mouth without warning and without thought.

Weiter Gehen, Er sagt. Es tut mir so leid, Meine Liebste Mische!  Weiter Gehen!  His voice crashed though the air like thunder!

“Weiter Gehen.”

He looked back and she was gone.  He would never see her again.

Mische, If I was in fact your knight in shining armor, my armor wasn’t actually that shinny.  And you can see now that if you had stayed I would have not been able to fend off the dragons.  They were coming back for me and have arrived.  Perhaps you knew this. I hope you did and took care of yourself.  You knew the dragons would never leave though.  But you also knew I would fight.  So here I am. and you just watched yet another battle.

Both of us came from the land of the ice and the snow.  (Hey just like Led Zeppelin.)  You especially.  Remember how I told you I was a viking.  Well here ya go!  Except one thing about the vikings, they may have done their fair share of raping pillaging and plundering what ever the fuck that means but they also did their fare share of surviving.  Which is why I met you in September of 2004.  Turns out time happens instantaneously.  I am yours Mische.  I always was and I always will be.

He laid there on the rock as the waves washed over his naked and cut up body.  He looked toward the now empty sky where once the storm of dragons flew and said,

“Ich war es immer und ich werde es immer sein.  Du bist meine Prinzessin Mische! Du bist meine Prinzessin!“

He closed his eyes and lost consciousness but he was far from dead.

I will keep fighting them.  I am not going to give up.  I will lose battles for sure.  Just like I did tonight.  But I will continue to fight.  I will use what ever I can.  I will use crutches. I will cheat if necessary.  And I am sure I will die fighting.  And after I die I will see you again and the story will continue.  Don’t give up on me my princess.

Ernie watched from above.  All he could think was “You deluded fuck!”  Never-the-less he would help no matter what.

He woke the next day to see a blue sky.  The dragons came in to play as they often did.  Usually, being too tired he would lay there and just take it.  The dragons that came in in the morning were young.  He did not have the will to fight the young ones.  Fore once there was a time when he was one of them.

“Okay, so Ernie, I’m gonna need your help here.  Is there anyway you can give me a heads up on when they are coming in.”

The mighty breath of fire!  The power.  The seduction.  Those great wings.  The air they pushed away as they moved through.  The whoosh that left him breathless.  He loved them as soon as he saw them.  Although he had no wings, no scales, no eyes that could see forever, and a breath that produced just warm damp air he felt he was one of them.  He wanted so desperately to be one of them.  And they knew it.

The ice. The water. And, the fire.  The fire was warm.  This is really all he knew. At four years old he still couldn’t talk.  The elders of the village began to do just that – talk.  His father began to worry.  But he saw the fire.  He saw the smoke as it left the fire and realized that the smoke was just fire without the glow.  He continued to observe without a spoken word and the elders began to judge.  And his father began to act.

“You dumb shit!  You worthless bastard!”  he yelled at him.  In extreme frustration his father yelled at his mother saying, “Look at him just sitting there.  He’s a fucking idiot.”  And all he could do was sit on the stone terrified at his father.

Ah but Mortimus was watching.  “I think we have one.” he said to Claris.  (Pronounce Claudees) “Look at him.  His father is a fool!  This little one is far from an idiot.  He will ride us!  Can’t you see that, my dear Claris.  He will show us where to go.  He will show us where the heart is.  This young one will be mighty.  This young one will not only guide us but will worship us.  He will give us the key to destroy their world!”

But Claris could see this.  She could see even farther than Mortimus how valuable this little two legged creature without wings and without fire in his breath could and would be!

The winged serpents could see everything.  They could produce anything.  They could produce something that looked like “love”.  Oh, it wasn’t love but it sure did look like it.

Just a broken guy

"Just a broken guy, got a few screws loose, I guess. Never really knew it until now. Just, y'know."  were probably the most stunning words between Richard Russell and ATC that day.

Okay, I may have had something to drink.

Reckoning:

The sadness of the past is gone
Wiped clean by the dream of a new relationship
The flames of loss, regret, remorse, and despair
smothered with the fantasy of a new love

Sand and dirt hastily kicked over smoldering branches and twigs.
Smoke; just fire without the orange glow
continues to rise around the edges and on the fringes
The newly displaced earth starts to warm

The voice in my head said, "You will deal with this."

Go back and look.

Look at the entries for December of 2015 and early 2016.  Look at the entries for Mar see uh.  Look at the entries for Jenna, Victoria and Valerie.  Okay there might not be entries for all of them.  Anyway just look back where your mind has been.

Look at Barbara and now Kelli.

You will deal with this.  I will see to it that you do.  You can try to hide behind the pornography, prostitutes and same sex fantasies.  You can hide behind your silly mountains, behind your hikes up Elden, behind your drives to Boulder.  You can try to hide behind your German language learning but I will still be there.

I will be there.  I am patient.  I have all the time in the universe.  I have nowhere else to be.  I can wait.  You will deal with this.

Unless of course, you die.

Okay but how?

No,  Really?  How?  How the fuck will I deal with this?

Give me a fucking clue.

Throw me a fucking bone will you.

Okay, I will deal with it.

Show me because right now I have no idea what the fuck you are talking about.  Seriously, Deal with “this.”

What the fuck is the "this" of which I must deal.

What the fuck is “this”?  What is the “this” of which I must deal.

Okay,  So I will deal with this.

Who the fuck are you anyway.  Who is the “you” that will be there.  Who is the “you” that is patient, the”you” that has all the time in the universe, the you that has nowhere else to be, the you that can “wait”  Who the fuck are you!

Who are you and what is the "this"?

Okay, so there is a “you” that is telling me that “I will deal with “this”  and then there is this “this” thing of which I must deal?

Once again, “YOU” are going to have to throw me a bone here.  I mean something.  Maybe I understood it before.  Maybe I understood it just before Wendy.  But I fucking lost it.  I have no idea who the fuck “you” are and what the fuck “this” is.

I am sitting here hearing voices in my head.  Okay, hearing a voice in my head and talking about a thing with which I must deal.

I am gonna go out on a limb here and hypothisize as to what the consequence might be if don’t deal with this.  After all, why should I deal with this.  Why on earth do you say, “You” as in me will deal with this.

It has to do with the pornography, prostitutes and same sex fantasies?  It has to do with Valerie in my head all the fucking time?  Mostly it has to do with Valerie in my fucking head all the fucking time?  Is this what you are talking about?  Is this WHY I will be dealing with the thing called “this”?

Does dealing with “this” mean striking a deal? or does it mean resolving the “this.”

I got a headache.  I’m going to bed.  But yeah, sure, I will deal with “this.”?  (a smiley face emoji would go good right here)

Und Wenn ich komme von weit, weit her

Was bin ich ohne dich - Nicht gesund.
Du bist alles fur mich - auch, nicht gesund.
Ohne dich, bin ich nichts - Noch Einmal, nicht gesund
Und Schlussendlich:
"Ich kann nicht leben, wenn das leben ohne dich ist. . . "
Ganz ubertrieben, nicht gesund!

Down the rabbit hole on the web

For some reason I thought of Put Down the Duckie on a Sesame Street episode that I watched with my kids.  As I watched it, I was surprised by all the stars that contributed to sketch.  One in particular was Jane Curtain.  This lead to looking up what she looks like now.  She is an elderly woman with as is with all my childhood and young adulthood icons.  This made me think, "Holy Shit. All of us really do get old."  Which reminded me of a song by Ron Wood off his album, "Gimme some neck"  So I looked up the song on youtube to listen to it.  I started listening to it and then looked up how old he is and images of what he looks like now.  Which made me wonder what his role in the Rolling Stones was.  I found out the tense should be is because he is still with band.  At that point the outside environment broke through (I became aware of what I was doing) and started to close the tabs on the browser.  As I was closing them I got back to Jane Curtin and immediatly thought of the skit with Dan Akroyd on SNL's Weeknd Update where he says, "Jane you ignorant slut".  You guessed it. Had to look that up on YouTube and watched it in amazement and amusement.  It is hysterical!  The lines both of them say are so impressive so I went on a search for the script and saw this:"Can somebody please explain to me why “Jane, you ignorant slut” is supposed to be funny?" It was on a "Reddit" post.  I wanted to add a comment and so tried but I had to sign up.  This then finally caused me to close the browser.

According to the history on my browser from the time I started down the Rabbit hole to the time I crawled out was from 11:35 to 12:01.  I just looked this information to put in this writing and found that it wasn't as long as I would have guessed.  But it was still quite some time.  I have gone way further down the rabbit hole than that to the tune of maybe 3 hours - not at work though.

Start: Put down the duckie
End: Reddit - Wanting to reply to "Can somebody please explain to me why “Jane, you ignorant slut” is supposed to be funny?"

We only get so many moments

We only get so may moments to spend with one another make them good ones.

For those of you fighting with your true love; take stock.  The moments you get to spend together are fleeting.

Wendy and I actually never really fought. The conflicts that we did have were very short lived - hours at most.  As sickening as it may sound we both almost played this game of "who could acquiesce the most."  This is not quite true of course.  Because that would really make me throw up. The point is is that we looked inside ourselves and figured out what was each of our parts in the conflict. And both of us ALWAYS had a part.  We would immediately try to find our part and make amends to one another.  And miraculously the conflict would cease to be.  Out of every conflict what ultimately happened was we came closer together and found our love for one another deepen.

I kind of feel that there must be some law of the Universe which states that the love between two people has a maximum depth.  Once that depth has been passed one of the people have to be removed. I am sorry. This is me being the victim.  Alas there is no such law.  It is just the brutal reality of life.

This insentience need to be right left me when I was with her.  In every conflict I think unconsciously I would ask myself is this conflict worth the cost of being right.  The answer was always "no."  She did the same thing I think. Because sometimes I would be right and sometimes she would be. It was really quite beautiful.  I would happily be wrong all the time if I could be with her again.

The only drama I have going on these days is the drama in my head:

It feels to me that this is what is going on with her and one day she will say this to me:

Do you want to know why I am not talking to you and don't return your texts.  Do you want to know why I really don't want you coming to see the kids and Why I absolutely don't want you staying at the house.  In fact, do you want to know why I never want to see you again.

I am getting better at letting go almost to where I was in 2007 and I think I could deliver the following response.  Although I am pretty sure it would not be "recovery approved"

No, I actually don't want to know.  I don't want to know any of that!  Really.  I could tell by your behavior something "was up."  And I was right!  I know the signals really well.  Because you haven't changed. . . . at all.  I knew there was something going on in your head, that you had concocted some belief based on a smattering of cherry picked evidence that fits the narrative of me being the "evil bastard"  No.  I don't want to know because it would be coming from a 14 year old and would be meaningless because what ever is going on in that little 14 year old brain of years is just a fantasy necessary to maintain the narrative.

I will think about what is going on with you from time to time and wonder, "Oh my G-d,  Is she thinking "this!?" or thinking "that!?"  I will actually be worried about it. This will happen at night and then I will usually find my way back to sleep.  In fact I've been doing EMDR work on it.  I have been able to let go of it.  Let the consequences happen as they should.

My behavior has not been stellar since Wendy passed.  My behavior with Wendy WAS stellar.  In fact, my behavior with you has also been absolutely stellar.  That thing back in May of last year was ALL you - one hundred percent.  And what's going on with you right now is ALL you.

Here's the thing, I go to meetings and work on myself - constant introspection!  What am I responsible for?  How did I contribute to this?  I even do that with this situation and I can come up with stuff.  Yes, I have amends to make on this but I am not going to this time because as you say you never want to see me again and believe me that is not a problem.  You on the other hand don't have any self awareness - none that I can see.  Have the words, "I'm sorry." ever passed through your fucking lips. . . .Yeah, I didn't think so.  I certainly never heard them.  You're just like your dad.

Here's the other thing,  You were afraid of being perceived as a super bitch.  I think you're pretty well beyond that.  When you said you didn't want "to get back together again."  Where the fuck did that come from?  As I thought about it after the conversation all I could think was, "You gotta be fucking kidding me."  Hopefully the following will put your mind at ease, provide you some peace:

I watched the love of my life, the most beautiful woman I ever laid eyes on, the sweetest person I have ever met die over a period of three years with the last six months of her lovely life being nothing but torture.  And the unkindest cut of all is that you are still breathing and walking this earth with impunity.  

If I ever find that you are enduring or have endured that same fate I will do an end zone dance complete with fist pumps.

So, no, I don't want to know why.  Just please do me a favor and go fuck yourself and by all means stay the fuck out of my life!

Dreams from last night

These are just bits and pieces of dreams:

Susan White;

I knew her from high school.  She was one of the untouchables for someone like me.  Of course, Wendy was one of the untouchables.  Anyway in the dream she came to visit the place where I live.  We talked and had "meaningful" conversations but I can't remember what we talked about of course.  I remember telling her about there being flights direct to Denver from the place where I live.  I remember her not being that excited about it.  She is a flight attendant on that airline that will be providing the service.  There was someone else present in the dream it may have been my housemate.  This person asked me if I asked why she came to visit me.  I had not.  I remember talking to this second person looking out the front window of my house.  The view was up a road that winded up into mountains.  It was foggy or maybe just a grey day.  I never did find out why she came to visit.  This melded into the next dream.

Wendy:

I was holding her.  In part of the the dream we were naked together. No sex.  It was sort of sexual but not really.  I do remember kissing her on her neck and cheek and holding her tight but there was no "arousal."  This time she seemed perfectly healthy. Although I recognized her as Wendy in the dream when the image of her (in the dream) comes to mind that image doesn't look like her at all.  We knew the cancer was there and we were kind of in this mode where we were waiting for something to happen. . . 

Finally I remember walking around Wendy's house.  It had an upstairs.  There was a den.  The master bedroom was the entire size of the house I actually live in which is really Wendy's house.

There was more but that is about all I can remember.

Some thoughts on perception.

My ex-wife sees me through the lens of the person she knew over fourteen years ago.  To a large extent, I believe I have changed.  At least in how I behave.  I have to admit I still let my thoughts do the "self will run riot" thing.  But my actions and outward behavior have changed.  All the people I know in the place where I live don't know and have never met the person that my ex knew.  When I talk about the way I was they are in disbelief.  They can't imagine.

Through the lens with which my ex-wife sees me all my actions, behaviors, things I say, facial expressions, questions I ask, every little nuance, even the way I walk are filtered to answer one question.  "How is he manipulating me?"  She always comes up with an answer.  It is a stunning testament to the way I was.

My solution:  Stay the fuck away from her and only communicate with her when absolutely necessary and then only by text.

A post to Facebook

There are lots of things shared on facebook - pictures of fun times, cute succinct sayings of wisdom. cynical sayings, the vitriol of political debate, and sometimes downright hurtful sarcasm. However, shares about the experience of the depth of loss are rare. You shared about loss which is a real piece of you. The result is a connection which transcends the differences that divide people. I really appreciate posts like this probably because I can relate in a somewhat profound way.

 I’ve been coming apart for the last three years. I know I will continue to do so. I think this may be the price of love. I get to a point where I think, “Ah, I’m good now!” and the wave comes rushing back in. I agree with you. It’s not about the opal. It’s about the incomprensible absence - the void - the vacuum left in her wake. I’ll pull a plate out of the cupboard and another will come crashing to the floor and all I can think is, “There goes another part of her.” The plates were hers.

 Thanks for your post.

On Vacation

Went on vacation with my lesbian housemate.  It was one of the best if not the best vacation I have ever been on.  Bare in mind my phone died just prior to the vacation and as we were driving out there my front tooth fell out due to recent dental work.  I managed to keep it together though.